


Anniversary in the Ruins

by Illusioneery (Arkee)



Series: The Lucky Sevens: A Ficlet Collection [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Healing, M/M, Moving On, post Advent Children maybe post Dirge of Cerberus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 20:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkee/pseuds/Illusioneery
Summary: Little by little, Cloud Strife moves on with his life.





	Anniversary in the Ruins

Once a year, on that day people remembered as the end of Geostigma, Cloud would return to what was left of Midgar; to the very place where he once had that decisive battle.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t trying to do better, or instead clinging to a past full of battles during which time seemed to escape him like sand through his fingers, no. Those days had long faded away, just as the ruins crumbled more and more by each passing year. That was what he sought in his visits to such a place; the oddly, peaceful comfort of watching the evidence of his old troubles disappear.

He wouldn’t dare to cross the doors of the old church during his visits to what remained of the old city. It represented a wound that had long since healed, but he couldn’t risk the chance of accidentally opening the scar such events left him.

Sometimes, Cloud would just wander around, aimlessly, if only a little detached from everything but the gratification of knowing the world wasn’t in immediate danger any longer. The breeze there blew almost as a gentle caress, carrying with it the usual smells of dust and — more frequently the more time passed by — the vegetation which was slowly taking over the desert and, shyly, over the city.

For one day in the year he’d bask in the knowledge that he had survived all of which fate had thrown at him; he’d be thankful to all of which had him still standing after so long, the good parts of it and even the painful ones.

Once a year, when the night would come after that day, he would sit down in the dark for a moment before heading for his tent, simply listening to the wind as it howled; aware enough in case the… local fauna wanted to interrupt his moment of respite.

(Or maybe in hopes of an opponent far more threatening appearing.)

For a moment, Cloud would be able to swear the air carried a smell of leather with it, would imagine he heard a smooth, deep voice teasing him and that would kick him into overdrive; reaching for First Tsurugi even when there was no one, nothing there for him to fight but the intangible ghost of a memory.

On a rare occasion, he had found a long black feather or two on his path and had been wary for the rest of his visit, old instincts awakened. The wind had blown too suddenly against his nape and Cloud had to turn more than once, just to make sure that final — threat — promise hadn’t come true and that Sephiroth wasn’t just standing behind him.

It had him thinking about things that, for many reasons, couldn’t — and  _shouldn’t_  — be, which ended up stealing his sleep. He couldn’t muster the energy to feel guilty about some of those thoughts or the actions such musings led him to, in the peaceful sheer quietness of his tent.

If anything, that was another form of stress relief, so he supposed, as he wiped his hand clean in an old cloth after he was done with it, —  _still panting softly_  — that was a way of healing, too, even if it brought with it so many complicated emotions.

But regardless of anything, the mornings following that one particular date of every year, he’d drive back to Edge, feeling a little more light than when he had left; that silent comfort helping him to continue on in ways no one else could.

Life would then resume the way it used to be, as it always did. Those kids would greet him, almost as if he had been gone for an entire week instead, and would offer their love; they would make sure that he knew he was wanted in that place, for which Cloud was nothing but grateful.

Those two… they would grow to be very good people as they already were good kids.

In fact, they were already  _growing_ , in the literal sense of it. And soon enough, they would no longer be kids. Even sooner, he would surrender himself to the simple joys of his delivery service once again, always to return to his odd family of misfit friends. And things would be alright.

Soon, it would come the time to pay the ruins his yearly visit once again; to leave behind some more weight he had accumulated during the harsh times life had put him through. And so it was to be, he had decided long ago, until the day when either those ruins were swallowed away by time or he would fail to find his way home.


End file.
